


Fate Waiting

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Grief, Loss, Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-08-29 22:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16752394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: You and Lizzie did everything together. Eighteen months separated you, Omega sisters, striking out on a road trip across the states to celebrate the end of college. But there are things lurking in the dark that you don’t know about and fate is always on your shoulder.





	1. Chapter 1

Your sister’s name was a scream on your lips that the thunder drowned out. You could taste blood on your tongue and you were certain your arm was broken. Whatever had grabbed you from the car had been fast and strong and Lizzie was alone with it.

She was crying out, her voice getting weaker and something growled behind you. A clawed hand slipped around your ankle, pulling you closer as the creature loomed over you. It was at least seven feet tall and resembled every stereotype of werewolves you’d ever seen on TV.

Except this was very,  _very_  real.

Lifting your hands in a pathetic attempt to protect yourself, you squealed when the creature dropped onto all fours over you, sniffing with its huge muzzle, drool mixing with the rain on your stomach. It pushed your shirt up and if you hadn’t been so terrified, the touch would have tickled.

“P-please,” you shivered, shaking your head. “Please, let me go…”

“Y/N!” Lizzie screamed again and the werewolf-thing looked up, scenting the air. You’re sobbing now, waiting for it to choose, you or your baby sister.

The werewolf’s huge paw rested on your shoulder, pinning you down and you cried out at the pain in your arm. He ignored you, finally releasing his hold and lumbering off towards the car. Rolling yourself onto your belly, you crawled towards the bushes at the side of the highway.

Lights flickered in the distance, swiftly followed by the sound of an engine and you turned to look back at the car. Lizzie had fallen silent and in the rain, and you felt eerily alone. The approaching car rounded the bend and light fell over you, illuminating your stranded vehicle.

It slowed to a stop and the sound of two doors opening made you look up and shield your eyes from the light. Two very tall figures appeared, frowning down at you, just as the pain of your various injuries started to overwhelm you.

“My…” The attempt to communicate was cut short as your body shut down, leaving you slumped on the verge, at the complete mercy of two strangers and whatever was lurking in the dark.

*****

A cool damp cloth was pressed against your forehead and you groaned, turning your head as someone shushed you. “It’s okay, you’re safe.” There was too much pain to deal with so you succumbed to the bliss of unconsciousness.

The second time you woke, you were alone and the room you lay in was dark. Sitting up, you clutched your head, grimacing at the pain.

“Hey,” a soft, warm voice echoed from the doorway and you looked up, seeing a man with long hair crossing the threshold with a tray. Your nose picked up the scent of food and your stomach lurched in response. The man dropped the tray onto the bedside table and sat down, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“What happened?” you mumbled, blinking up at him.

“We were hoping you could tell us,” the man replied. “I’m Sam,” he introduced himself, smiling at you and you nodded.

“Y/N,” you whispered back, trying to remember what had happened. “There was a man -” Sam’s hand left your shoulder as you squeezed your eyes shut, pushing through the pounding headache. “My sister -” Where was Lizzie? “Lizzie,” you whimpered, “he had Lizzie.”

Sam’s mouth was a thin line and his eyes were full of sympathy. “We found you on the road. There was a car but it was empty. You said your sister was with you?”

You nodded, looking up at him with tears beginning to drip down your cheeks. “We were driving home from a trip; a convention in Florida. Her birthday present.” Wiping at your face, you noticed the bandages around your middle, underneath the shirt that was not yours. “What happened?”

“We’re gonna find out,” Sam promised. Footsteps in the hallway preceded the arrival of another large man and you stiffened as he entered the room, his scent hitting you. He froze just past the threshold, scenting the air. “Dean -”

“You’re awake,” Dean murmured. “How are you feeling?”

You stared at him and Sam stood up, blocking your vision. “She doesn’t remember much,” he said, approaching the other man carefully. “And I told you to stay in the library. She’s not… ready to deal with that just yet.”

“Deal with what?” you asked, voice mouse-quiet but getting Sam’s attention all the same. He hesitated, holding his palm out toward Dean. “I don’t understand -” Pain lanced through your head and you dropped it into your hands, crying out.

“Dean, don’t -”

Sam’s words were blocked out as warm arms surrounded you, the thick musky scent of Alpha calming your nerves in a way only family had done before. Someone was talking but you were too overcome with pain and grief to focus on what they were saying.

Moments passed and you remained buried in the scent and warmth, clinging to the fabric your face was buried against. Fingers pressed to your forehead and the pain washed away, cleansing your wounds. Blinking, you pulled back from your sanctuary, meeting Dean’s eyes.

“What was that?”

“I healed you,” a gruff voice said and you looked up to see a man in a suit and a hideous beige trenchcoat. “I am Castiel.” His startling blue eyes went to Dean as he continued to speak. “You are fortunate I was close by. The head injury would have killed her quickly.”

“Head injury?” you squeaked and Dean’s hands took hold of yours. “How did you do that?”

“He’s an angel,” Sam explained, frowning at you. “We brought your car back here but like I said, it was empty. What were you doing out there in the dark? On a road like that?”

You tilted your chin up, eyeing him in defiance. “Just because I’m an Omega doesn’t mean I can’t look after myself. Lizzie and I were on a road trip and we took the scenic route. We just… got lost. And that guy was hurt or we thought he was and then he… he changed.”

“Changed?” Dean asked, drawing your focus back to him. His scent filled your head, making you groan and his grip on your hands tightened. What was that? The underlying aroma of his natural odor that drew you in and intoxicated you. “Changed how?”

“He had fangs. Like… a wolf? Maybe?” You shook your head, pulling your hands away from Dean’s thick fingers. “I can’t think straight.”

“It’s me,” the green-eyed male grunted. “You’re… you’re reacting to me.” His fingers reached for you again but you darted out of reach, getting to your feet and almost stumbling. Castiel caught you, helping you right yourself.

“I need to find my sister,” you whispered, clutching the sleeves of his coat. Dean stood from the bed, fixing his eyes on Sam. “Please. You need to help me find her.”f

*****

“Jody found a police report,” Sam muttered, pulling Dean out of earshot. “Luckson County had a body turn up near the road where we found Y/N. Heart ripped out. Matches the description she gave us.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, glancing over at where you were clutching a cup of coffee and staring into space. “Shit,” he grumbled, sighing heavily. “And the wolf?”

Sam’s face twisted into a grimace. “It’s the one we missed at the barn.”

The urge to punch something churned in Dean’s gut, mixing with the guilt into a pool of nausea. This was their fault. They’d failed to corner the werewolf in Sandstone and now you were paying the price. “What do we do?”

“We gotta put the wolf down,” Sam reminded him, his eyes drifting across the room. “Before we can deal with anything else.” You looked up, catching his gaze, hope on your face. “But we’re not gonna lie to her. She can stay here until it’s done, just in case it’s looking for a matching pair.”

Dean scowled, clenching his fists at his side, remaining motionless as Sam pushed past him and walked towards you. He was always better at this stuff so Dean let the Beta take point, keeping back and watching. The words were inaudible but the moment Sam told you that it was likely your sister was dead, Dean could see it. Your face was neutral for a split second before it crumbled into anguish and you collapsed forward, sobbing as Sam attempted to comfort you.

It was too much. Your pain was a physical weight in his chest and Dean wanted to be in his brother’s place. The selfishness and jealousy that backed him into a corner was overwhelming and he turned, leaving the room, leaving you with Sam.

Castiel was in the kitchen, making coffee for some reason; he looked up when Dean entered. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Dean grunted, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator and slumping onto one of the benches. “This whole thing is just bad timing.” The angel frowned, facing him and leaning against the counter. “We need to get her back to her family so they can… grieve, I guess.”

“You’re not going to tell her?” Castiel surmised, the frown still firmly fixed in place. Dean shook his head, swigging his beer. “You’re going to take the choice away from her.”

“There is no choice,” Dean growled, glaring at his friend. “I’m a hunter. She’s a civilian. This life doesn’t come with happy ever afters and pups, Cas, you know that.”

“You’d turn away your soulmate?”

Dean blinked, looking at the angel blankly. “Genetic compatibility is not the same thing.”

Cas shrugged. “That’s not what I’ve been led to believe. It’s very rare to find a genetically compatible mate. At least, to this degree. Maybe it was fate you were meant to find her.” Dean scoffed and Castiel shook his head. “I think you should be honest with her and tell her the truth. It’s her decision too, Dean.”

The hunter got to his feet, draining the rest of his beer. “It’s not up for discussion. Keep your trap shut.” His harshly spoken words made Castiel’s frown return to his face and he watched the elder Winchester storm out, past a bewildered Sam in the corridor.

“What was that about?” the younger brother asked, jerking a thumb in Dean’s direction.

“Dean believes that keeping the truth from Y/N is the best way to deal with the fact that he’s found a compatible mate among the thousands out there.” Castiel’s statement drew a gasp as you appeared in the doorway, behind Sam. Sam’s expression crumbled and he placed his palm against his forehead.

“I’m what?” you whispered, looking between the two tall men. “But… that’s not possible.”

“You believe that a werewolf attacked you but the possibility of having a soulmate is impossible?” Castiel queried and you scowled at him. Sam held a hand up, attempting to diffuse the situation.

“None of this matters right now,” he started, “because Dean and I are gonna track down the werewolf and kill it. Jody is gonna contact your family -”

“She can’t,” you blurted out. Both men looked at you in surprise as you tried not to burst into tears. “My family are gone. It was just Lizzie and me.”

Sam’s entire face filled with concern. “You don’t have anyone?” You shook your head, wiping at your eyes to try and stop the flow of tears.

“And you’re not going anywhere without me,” you added, standing firm despite your trembling frame. “I want to see the thing that killed Lizzie. And I want to watch it die.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Not happening.”

Dean’s words were growled and forceful and you scowled at him, crossing your arms over your chest. The hunter stared you down, shoulders hunched and eyes blazing. “You’re not going without me.”

“You wanna see his face?” Dean snarled and you nodded stubbornly. “Fine, I’ll bring back his damn head.”

“No!” you snapped, pulling your arm free and slamming the heel of your palm into his shoulder. “I am not staying here while you go out and do this.” You sniffed, lifting your chin. “I have to go and… and tell them…” With a sigh, you turned away. “I have to identify her. There’s no one else.”

Sam glanced at Dean, his expression obviously meant to convince his brother to let you join them. Castiel remained quietly disapproving behind the younger Winchester but you weren’t about to back down from the fight. Maybe these guys killed monsters, maybe you couldn’t fight but you could be there for the only justice Lizzie was going to get.

“She’s right, Dean,” Sam murmured, shaking his head.

Dean’s jaw clenched and he stood straight, grinding his teeth together. “She stays in the motel room,” he ordered and you opened your mouth to instantly protest but he cut you off. “No. I’m not arguing. You ID your sister, you stay in the motel room. Or you can damn well walk.”

“Dean!” Sam snapped as you reeled back, eyes watering. “That’s enough.”

The elder brother held his ground for a second before growling loudly and storming off. Sam sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. You watched the empty doorway Dean had disappeared through, bottom lip wobbling.

“I will go after him,” Castiel announced, brushing past Sam without waiting for any agreement.

“He doesn’t like me,” you whispered, looking toward the empty doorway.

“He doesn’t know you,” Sam insisted, giving you a soft smile. “Dean’s always been… resistant to the idea of being an Alpha. He knew this would happen one day and now it has, he doesn’t know how to react. It’s not the sort of thing you can prepare for.”

Your eyes went to Sam, irritation showing on your expression. “He’s not the one who just lost their sister to a werewolf,” you snapped. “How am I supposed to feel about this? How did you feel when you found out monsters were real? How many sisters have you lost?”

Sam’s expression was indistinguishable. “I found out when I was a kid. After a demon murdered my mother and fed me demon blood so I would become the next vessel for Satan.” Oh, shit. You went still, unsure what to say and unable to tear your eyes away from his face. Sam shut his eyes for a second. “I’m sorry. That was unfair of me -”

“No,” you whispered, backing away and wrapping your arms around your middle. “I should… I guess, I didn’t think before I spoke. I didn’t -”

“You didn’t know,” Sam replied, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “And I wouldn’t expect you to. This entire situation is beyond fucked up. Dean’s not in the right frame of mind right now.” He smiled. “You aren’t either.”

The rage had all but gone out of you, leaving nothing behind but raw grief. Tears were stinging your eyes and when Sam pulled you closer to try and offer comfort, you didn’t resist. He leaned his chin on top of your head as you burrowed your face in his chest.

“Let’s go and pack a bag. Gotta feelin’ this is gonna be an overnight stay.”

*****

You didn’t think there was anything worse in the world than knowing your sister was gone forever but having to identify her?

It practically destroyed you.

When the Winchesters dropped you off at the motel, you were almost catatonic, tears dried up and shock setting in. Lizzie was really gone, the forever kind of gone and there was still a werewolf out there somewhere, possibly hunting for you.

Sam left you his phone and you silently curled up on one of the queen sized beds, staring blankly at the wall ahead. The boys only lingered a few seconds before they were gone, off on the hunt. The sun was setting and they were certain the wolf was still in the immediate area, with another attack happening on the other side of town.

The passage of time was inconsequential. You didn’t move, didn’t care to do anything. You just wanted to lay there and stop existing, stop feeling the pain. Lizzie was all you’d had. She was your entire family. Now, you were alone, with nothing, in a motel room paid for on a stolen credit card.

It started to rain outside, pattering loudly against the window and the sound soothed you sleep.

Lizzie’s scream haunted your dreams.

Images of what the werewolf might have done to her assaulted you; the coroner had only shown you her face, slightly bruised and cut up. You wished that wasn’t the last image you had of her. The sheet was covering everything from the throat down and your mind provided the gory details.

The room was dark when you opened your eyes and you instantly knew you weren’t alone. You sat up, both hands braced on the bed, blindly searching for Sam’s phone, not finding it where he’d left it.

A chuckle made the blood in your veins run cold. Lifting frightened wide eyes to the other side of the room, you swallowed as a phone screen lit up, filling the room with an eerie glow. The werewolf’s eyes glowed yellow in the dark. “Looking for this?”

He’d found you.

“Y’know, I wasn’t expecting hunters to stumble across my prize,” the wolf drawled, his words lisped by the mouthful of fangs that glistened in the light of Sam’s phone. As he stepped forward, it started to ring, Dean’s name flashing up on the screen. The werewolf tossed it away, the vibrating sound continuing as it shook against the carpet. “I’d been hunting you and your sister since you left that lovely little town. Caught a whiff and couldn’t resist.”

You swallowed, moving further up the bed as he came to a stop at the foot, curling your legs in on yourself and feeling the headboard at your back. “You killed Lizzie,” you accused and the werewolf chuckled, scratching his hairy jaw with his pointed claws.

“I did. Oh, she cried for you, Y/N.” You shuddered as he spoke your name and he grinned at the response. “Told me all about you. I was surprised she lasted as long as she did…” He leaned forward, placing his clawed hands on the foot of the bed. “Omega blood is so sweet. And the heart -” A disgusting groan of pleasure made your insides twist.

Sam’s phone started vibrating again.

“I’m sure you’ll last longer,” the wolf purred. “I’ve got more… exciting plans for you.”

“No,” you whispered, not wanting to know what his twisted imagination had dreamed up. Your mind was racing for a plan, an escape. What would even kill a werewolf? Sam had mentioned silver bullets…

“Oh, yes,” your attacker replied, standing straight. “And the best thing? Those stupid hunters bought the carcass I left on the other side of town. By the time they get back, we’ll be long gone.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Now, are you going to come with me like a good little Omega, or do I have to hurt you?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Something’s wrong,” Dean murmured, dragging the beam of his flashlight over the barn. “This doesn’t look like somewhere the wolf’s been holed up.”

Sam frowned, following his brother’s gaze. “The body was found not far from here and witness reports -”

“I’m tellin’ you, Sammy,” the elder Winchester interrupted, almost growling. “I’m not scentin’ anything similar to what that guy smelled like like.” It was a gross but fairly handy perk of being an Alpha. Dean’s sense of smell was as good as a bloodhound, although he considered it a curse with Sam’s burrito addiction.

Healthy did not equal good gas apparently.

Sam moved ahead of Dean, tripping over something that squelched when his foot connected with it. Dean instantly shone the light down, finding the corpse of a homeless guy. He reached down, grabbing at the guy’s jacket to get at his throat, checking for a pulse.

The man’s eyes snapped open, glowing gold and Dean jumped back in shock, narrowly avoiding the werewolf’s sharp talons. Sam was already aiming his gun, shooting the creature in the shoulder before he could get up. The homeless guy went down, screaming in pain and Sam finished him off with a shot to the heart.

“Trap?” Sam panted, trying to work through the sudden rush of adrenaline.

Dean nodded, similarly suffering the effects of the surprise attack. He kept his pistol armed, waiting for something else to jump out. “Trap,” he agreed, turning as a rat scurried across the floor. This guy had been left for them and seemed to be freshly turned.

“Y/N.”

Sam’s quiet hiss of your name had ice cold dread filling Dean from head to toe. The elder hunter turned, instantly sprinting out the door with his brother hot on his heels. He barely had the passenger door shut before Dean was peeling away from the barn, tires squealing on the broken concrete path.

“Call her,” Dean snapped, handing Sam his phone. “Tell her to get out and go somewhere public. The diner on the highway.”

Sam nodded and selected his number from Dean’s contact, holding the phone to his ear. It rang thirteen times, each passing second making Dean twitchier and twitchier. When it went to voicemail, Dean’s foot pressed down on the gas and the Impala’s speed picked up a notch.

“Dean,” Sam started but his brother cut him off with a snarl, his knuckles white where he clutched the steering wheel.

“Try it again.”

*****

Your heartbeat had never sounded so loud in your ears as the werewolf stood over you, fangs glistening in the near-dark, eyes glowing threateningly. The fight or flight instinct in your veins warred for dominance - you’d never been one to back down from a confrontation, definitely the bolder out of you and your sister. But this wasn’t a guy hitting on you or pestering you for a date. This was a monster. A creature that could tear you limb from limb.

You didn’t know how to fight.

Sam’s phone was still persistently ringing. They must know by now that the trail they were following was a trap. They’d get back in time. They had to.

The werewolf reached out and your reaction was instant. You kicked out, taking him by surprise before slinging the chunky old phone from the bedside table. It hit him in the face, crunching into his nose with a disgusting sound and you took flight, bolting for the door.

As you got it open, the wolf recovered, snarling loudly as he came for you. You slammed the door and ran, slipping on the wet planks of the walkway outside. It wasn’t raining anymore but everything was soaked and you flung yourself into the parking lot, gasping for breath as you ran towards the office.

The clerk was already dead, slumped in the doorway with his throat torn open and you quickly detoured to the exit of the lot as you heard crunching heavy footsteps behind you. You dared not look back, pushing yourself harder than you’d had to since high school track competitions.

There was a 24-hour diner across the street. Hoping against hope that there was someone there, you ran across the road as fast as you could, almost able to feel your antagonist on your heels.

Lights shone over you and as you reached the other side of the street, the wolf caught up, snatching at your sleeve hard enough to send you tumbling. Before he could attack, something heavy, black, and shiny, slammed into him and sent him flying into the wall of the diner with a sickening thud.

You screamed, the sound squeaky from breathlessness, sheltering yourself with your arms. The car that had hit the werewolf stopped and the passenger door opened, revealing Sam. He was instantly at your side, scooping you up as Dean got out of the driver’s side.

He leveled his weapon at the monster as he got to his feet.

“She’s mine,” the beast roared, fangs dripping.

“No,” Dean growled back, “she’s not.”

One loud gunshot and the werewolf crumpled to the ground. You buried your face in Sam’s jacket, tears streaming down your face as he carried you toward the Impala, managing to open the back door and slide you in. You huddled up, sobbing at your own helplessness.

“She okay?” Dean asked, his voice quiet as Sam shut the door.

“I think so,” Sam replied glumly. “Physically anyway. We should -”

“Yeah. Come on,” you heard the driver door open, “let’s take her home.”

*****

Sam had retrieved all of your belongings from the car and put them in the room of the bunker that you’d accepted as yours. Living out of the car and motel rooms for a year left you with little to call your own and you couldn’t bear to deal with Lizzie’s things just yet.

He’d found your phone and charged it, leaving it on the nightstand next to your bed. You hadn’t touched it, knowing there’d be notifications on Facebook on the happy pictures of you and your sister, traveling the United States to see everything you could.

You had never dreamed it would end this way.

Lizzie would need to be buried. The sheriff’s office in Luckson County were taking care of the transport to the local coroner’s office; you had no idea what happened from there.

Exactly a week after Lizzie had died, you were still locked in your room. Sam came with food and drink, encouraging you to eat, or shower, offering to take you into town to get some things you’d likely need. But it wouldn’t get you out of your funk. Sleep was little and came infrequently, plagued with nightmares of the beast who’d hounded you and murdered your sister.

It was eight days since her death that you decided what you wanted to do. You woke from a dream, an actual dream, where you’d been able to defend yourself and save Lizzie’s life. Knowing it wasn’t real hurt but there were other people out there that you could save from the same fate.

Sam knocked with breakfast and was shocked to find you up and getting dressed. “Hey,” he greeted, placing the tray on the dresser. “You’re up.”

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging and glancing at the food. “I’m gonna grab a shower, is that okay?”

“Of course!” Sam replied, pleasantly surprised. “You know where everything is?”

You nodded, smiling at him before grabbing a piece of toast off of the tray and leaving him alone in your room. He stood for a few moments, then shook his head and wandered out toward the library with a smile on his face. Dean was sitting at the table, eating bacon and smearing grease all over the keys of Sam’s laptop.

“Dude,” he admonished and Dean looked up at him with a slack-jawed expression, frowning when his brother took the laptop away. “You’re such a slob.”

“Whatever,” Dean grunted. “Found a case.”

“Already?” Sam looked at him in concern. “We’ve only back a few days and -”

“And, nothin’,” Dean snapped. “Got a job to do.”

A frustrated grimace crossed Sam’s face. “Y/N left her room.” Dean’s eyebrows lifted a little. “She’s been through a lot, Dean. Leaving her here alone? Might not be the best idea.”

“She’s a tough girl.” The coldness in Dean’s tone shocked Sam and he reeled back, shaking his head. “What? You keep giving me looks and it’s getting old.”

“She’s your Omega, Dean. At least try and have a little compassion.”

Dean’s teeth ground together and he got to his feet, grabbing his plate and turning away. “She’s not my anything.” Sam opened his mouth to argue but was faced with Dean’s retreating back. He groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. His brother was so obstinate and Sam knew where it was coming from. Lisa, Cassie, every other girl that had crossed Dean’s path had ended up hurt or worse.

God knows, Sam understood that.

But he also understood that an Alpha finding a compatible Omega was something rare. Something that you shouldn’t throw away. A meeting like this was one-in-a-million, something Sam had always thought he had with Jess.

So, yeah, he understood both sides.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Sam text the details of the hunt over to Simon, another hunter in the Midwest who could deal with it. It was only a simple salt-and-burn and Sam really didn’t want to leave you alone in a strange place after everything you’d been through.

If you had family, you would have had somewhere to go, someone to mourn with. But you had no one.

A few moments later, you appeared in the doorway, freshly showered and dressed. You still looked drawn, a little worse for wear, but Sam was happy you were at least getting out of your room. “Hey,” he greeted for the second time that morning. “Good shower?”

“Yeah,” you replied, crossing the room to sit opposite him. “Sam, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he grinned, turning his body to face you.

“Being a hunter - do you like what you do?”

He laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s bloody. Scary. You lose people.” Your expression wavered for a moment - you’d already lost everyone. “But saving people? That’s what drives me. Knowing I’m saving as many lives as I can.” A frown made the lines on his forehead stand out a little more. “Why do you ask?”

You sucked in a breath and placed your hands in your lap, fixing your eyes on his. “Because I want you to train me. I want to be a hunter.”


	4. Chapter 4

Building the pyre for Lizzie’s funeral was hard work but you forced yourself through it. After the conversation you’d had with Sam, you’d decided you needed to get a little fitter, and lifting logs was a fairly good way to start. Sam helped you, like he’d helped with everything else, arranging the release of your sister’s body and helping you prepare her for what he called a “hunter’s funeral”.

Burning avoids the possibility of ghosts, for the most part. You’d made sure, on Sam’s advice, to go through Lizzie’s personal belongings, making sure there wasn’t anything that her spirit could use to attach itself. Sam didn’t think she would come back, as her killer was dead, and you couldn’t think of any unfinished business that might tie her to the world.

You hoped she was in heaven.

Wrapping the body was the hardest part. Sam tore up some linen sheets and insisted that you only help when he was nearly done, protecting you from the sight of what you assumed was your sister’s mauled body. When it was finished, you felt comforted by both his actions and the fact that he’d taken the time to shroud her carefully.

It wasn’t any easier to watch her burn. You’d placed a photo of you both on her chest and the stuffed beanie baby she’d had since she was six, the most likely object for spirit possession.

The sky was clear and dark had long since fallen when Sam handed you the matches, letting you do the final part. Fire took hold of the dry wood quickly and you stepped back, hands deep in the pockets of your old winter coat.

“You wanna say anything?” Sam asked quietly and you shook your head. You couldn’t put into words how much it hurt to lose the only person you had, although you had a feeling, when you looked into Sam’s eyes, that he’d experienced that same pain before.

So you stood, in silence, watching the flames until your legs almost couldn’t hold you up anymore.

“I meant what I said,” you whispered. “I know you’re humoring me, saying you’ll train me and help me figure this out. But I meant it. I want to hunt.”

Sam sighed, turning to you with a heavy expression. “I know you did. But hunting -” He paused, searching for the right words. “It’s a hard life, Y/N. It’s lonely and dangerous -”

“Because life as a single Omega with no family or friends is going to be peachy,” you drawled in response, no humor in your voice at all. “I want to fight. I want to do the things you do.”

“I know and I get that, I really do.” He looked around, unsure how to express what you knew he was going to say. “Dean would never allow it.” You grunted, about to argue the case when you were interrupted by a deep voice from the darkness.

“Dean would never allow what?” the hunter in question emerged, the firelight casting shadows over his face.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose as you pushed past him, fixing Dean with a glare, folding your arms across your chest. “I want to hunt.”

There was a second of disbelief on the older man’s face before he burst out laughing. “You’re joking.” He glanced at Sam, who remained stoic. “No, Y/N, you’re not hunting.”

“Why not?” you demanded. “There’s nothing stopping -”

“There’s me!” Dean yelled, his full height making you shrink back. “Hunting is dangerous. You’ll get yourself killed.” You were ready to fight back but he was already on the offensive. “You’re Omega. You’re unclaimed. You’ll be dead in a day!”

You ground your teeth together, angry at his lack of faith in you. “You don’t know that!” you screeched back and Sam winced at the pitch of it. “A monster killed my sister, Dean. My only family!”

“And revenge won’t bring her back!” Dean shouted, spittle flying from his lips. His eyes were almost flashing now, his chest heaving with rage. “The thing that killed her is dead. Be grateful you got that much closure.”

“Closure?” you repeated, incredulously. “You don’t have the fucking monopoly on revenge, Dean. And yeah, I’m Omega but you’re  _not_  my Alpha. If you don’t teach me, I’ll just go and find someone who will!”

Dean scoffed at that, stepping closer and jabbing his finger into your face threateningly. “Don’t come crying to me when something tears your guts out, princess. Trust me, I won’t be shedding a single fucking tear.” The sneer on his face chilled you to the bone and you barely heard Sam’s reprimanding call of his brother’s name.

Your eyes filled with tears and you shoved him backward, the action catching him off guard and sending him tumbling to the muddy ground. “Fuck you, Dean Winchester. Just -” You growled in anger, stomping off. “Fuck you!”

*****

In all honesty, the only reason you didn’t leave was because you had nowhere to go. Sam’s appearance in your room had nothing to do with it. He hadn’t spoken for the first few seconds as you sat on your bed with your back to him.

“He doesn’t mean it,” he started and you laughed dryly.

“Yeah, he does.”

Sam sighed, stepping a little closer to the bed. “You’re hurting, Y/N, and - and Dean’s confused.”

“Doesn’t give him the right to talk to me like that,” you sneered over your shoulder. “And don’t you dare come sticking up for him.”

“I’m not!” Sam defended, raising his hands as you turned and fixed a glare on him. “I swear. Dean… Dean’s an asshat but he’s my brother and his asshattery comes from a good place, I swear.” Your shoulders slumped a little and you returned to your original position. “He’s gonna fight you on this. Probably forever.”

“I don’t care,” you replied stiffly. “I’m going to learn to be a hunter.”

Sam drew a little closer. “You can’t go out there on your own.” Staring straight ahead, you ignored him, assuming he was going to say the same thing as his brother. “But I know you’re stubborn. I’ve only known you a week but that’s become very… obvious.” A smile pulled at your lips. Lizzie used to say you were stubborn as a mule. “And I know you’re gonna find a way to do this.”

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Sam stated slowly, shoving his hands in his pockets, “that I’ll train you.” Your eyes lit up and he quickly amended his words. “I’ll train you to protect yourself. And that is all Dean needs to know.” You smiled and nodded, getting up to hug him. “Whoa,” he chuckled, pushing you back.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “Just, you’ve been a really good friend, Sam.”

He grinned awkwardly. “I know what you’re going through. You ever need to talk, I’m here.”

“Thanks.”

Dean’s voice echoed down the hall as he called for his brother and you grimaced, the anger at the elder Winchester still fresh in your belly. “Sammy!”

“Get some sleep. We’ll go for a run tomorrow morning.” Horror crossed your face as Sam headed for the door.

“A run? Is it training or torture?” you exclaimed and Sam laughed, pausing in the doorway and glancing back before leaving you be. Whatever Dean wanted, it led to his bedroom door slamming loudly after Sam had raised his voice.

It was a little easier to rest that night, although the nightmares still came. This time, you faced them down, knowing that you’d learn as much as you could and try stop this from ever happening to anyone ever again.

*****

_Three weeks later…_

Dean was not happy in the slightest about Sam teaching you to defend yourself, seeing straight through the lie. He actively avoided you, scowling whenever you came near him and you gave up trying to talk to him, realizing that he’d only hate you more. Instead, you threw yourself into researching, helping with cases when Dean wasn’t objecting to it and training with Sam.

You’d always been a pretty good shot with the BB gun the neighborhood kids had when you were little and it was a skill you hadn’t forgotten. Sam was impressed with your aim and decided that it wasn’t really a necessity to work on it.

Close quarters fighting was a different matter. You went to bed several nights with bruises and grazes from where you’d fallen or failed to duck a punch. Sam was going easy on you, and you dread to think what his full power was like.

His reluctance to leave you alone only pushed Dean onto solo hunts. It was obvious that Dean wasn’t happy with his brother either, taking out much of his passive aggressive attitude on him, seeing as he wouldn’t talk to you if he didn’t have to. Sam ignored it for the most part, only snapping back when he was tired.

A rugaru hunt had him returning to the bunker with a fractured wrist and Castiel wasn’t around for another couple of days. Dean complained as loudly as possible the entire time, monopolizing Sam’s attention out of spite when the fracture wasn’t even that bad.

When you found a case, just a simple haunting, you decided to bring it up with Sam, suggesting you leave Dean alone for a few days to calm down until Cas got there to fix his wrist. Sam was hesitant at first, until Dean kicked up a fuss about not being able to open a beer and his patience with his brother finally disintegrated.

You couldn’t deny that you were a little excited as you set off to the neighboring state with Sam, armed with rock salt and shovels. The actual haunting turned out to be little more than the ghost of an elderly lady who didn’t want anyone living in her house and only took you away from the bunker for a day.

“You did good,” Sam congratulated, watching you pack the shovels into the trunk of the Impala. “They’re not all that easy, though.”

“I wasn’t under any impression that was easy,” you shot back, groaning at the ache in your shoulders from digging the grave. “No wonder you both have huge arms.”

Sam chuckled and got into the driver’s seat, waiting for you to join him. He was checking his phone when you eventually did, frowning at the screen.

“Something wrong?”

“Dean’s not replying.”

You shrugged. “So? He’s still in a mood.”

Sam hummed and tucked his phone away. “You’re probably right.”

Falling asleep in the front seat on the way home was inevitable after all the gravedigging. Despite being caked in dirt and god-knows what else, you curled into a ball and snoozed the entire way back to the bunker, only waking when Sam shook your arm to rouse you.

You froze when you climbed out of the car, a frown crossing your face; Sam noticed your stiff posture. “Everything okay?”

The air felt thick around you, filled with the undeniable scent of Alpha. It permeated your senses and you moved forward almost hypnotically, heading toward the stairs. Sam followed, concern on his features.

“Y/N?”

“Dean,” you muttered, stopping by the door.

Sam tilted his head, pushing past you, the scent becoming obvious to even his Beta senses. He’d smelled it before of course, many times over the course of his life.

His brother had gone into rut.


	5. Chapter 5

“Let me go first,” Sam murmured, holding you back. “I’ll see if he’s okay.” You nodded, remaining by the garage door, spreading your fingers across the wall behind your back, leaning into it. Nervousness plagued your system as Sam disappeared down the hall; butterflies danced in equal parts fear and arousal in your belly.

Dean’s scent had been distracting from the second you’d smelled it. A spiced sensual mix of cinnamon and vanilla, the sharp edge of cloves; the stale beer and gunpowder that clung to it only enhanced its deliciousness. Now, with his rut, it was positively intoxicating and you found yourself drawing deep breaths to savor it.

You weren’t due a heat for weeks but you could feel the slick in your panties and the sweat beading on your forehead. Goosebumps spread across your skin from what felt like head to toe and you shuddered against the wall, closing your eyes tight.

“Get a grip,” you muttered. “It’s just a biological reaction. Dean’s a dick.”

He wasn’t and you didn’t truly think that but with the way he’d acted, he wasn’t your favorite person.

Sam’s voice suddenly became audible as he yelled, followed by a crash. Panic surged into your chest and you took off without thinking, sprinting down the corridor and around the corner. On the library floor, Sam was sprawled on his butt, rubbing his jaw.

Dean stood opposite, chest heaving, wearing nothing but his jeans and a thin white t-shirt, soaked with sweat. His eyes were wild and the second you stepped into the room, his attention was on you. “Omega,” he growled and you took a step back, swallowing.

“Dean!” Sam barked, shifting his brother’s focus back to him. “Calm down. You’ve got more control than this.”

You weren’t so sure of Sam’s words as Dean prowled toward you, scenting the air. Like a hunter chasing down his prey, he had you in his sights and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to fight him off. Sam was getting to his feet, holding his hands out in a peaceful gesture as if his brother were a wild animal.

“Dean,” he started quietly, “this isn’t you. You’re letting the rut take control.” Dean growled, his lip curling upward and your panties practically disintegrated. You moaned unwittingly and Dean’s eyes narrowed to thin slits. Sam swallowed, edging closer. “Dean -”

“She smells like you,” Dean snapped, baring his teeth.

“Of course she does, we were in a car together for hours!” Sam insisted, shaking his head. “Dean, I wouldn’t do that. She’s my friend, that’s all.” His eyes met yours, pleading with you to try and convince him of the truth.

“He’s right, Dean. Sam’s my friend. Nothing happened.” Your voice was shaking. He stood less than a meter away now, blazing eyes almost black with lust. “Just… calm down, Dean. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Dean sniffed, looking down at his already fractured wrist.

“Y/N,” Sam said slowly, “go to your room and lock the door.”

Your head snapped toward him; Dean growled again. “What? Sam, no -”

“He’s not gonna hurt me,” Sam interrupted, keeping his eyes on his brother. “He’s just not thinking straight. It would be better if you weren’t around him.” Dean shifted when you moved backward and you hesitated. “Go, Y/N. Dean, stay put.”

You met Dean’s eyes again, feeling your own hormones react to the scent of an Alpha so near. But Dean hated you. He was  _literally_ thinking with his dick.

With a nod, you turned and slipped away, surprised when Dean didn’t follow. Adrenaline pumped through you, making your hands shake as you picked up the pace and ran to your room, locking yourself in. For a little while, you remained by the door, listening.

You couldn’t hear anything.

A part of you wanted Dean to come to you, to kick down the door and take you. You wanted to obey his instincts and yours. It made your stomach roll and your skin crawl in that way like when someone walked over your grave but instead of feeling cold, you felt warm all over.

When nothing happened, you moved toward your bed, sitting on the edge, unsure of what to do.

Someone knocked softly on the door and you got up, realizing it was Sam on the other side. You unlocked the door and opened it, frowning in concern at the bruising that was already coming up on his jaw. He stayed outside your room, looking nervous and fidgety. “Are you okay?” you asked.

“Cas got here a few minutes ago,” he explained, wringing his hands together. “He’s knocked Dean out. Hopefully he can sleep through the rest of his rut.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “This is my fault.”

“No,” Sam replied firmly, giving you a soft look. “Dean is a stubborn ass. And a jealous one too.” He sighed, scratching the back of his head. “Listen, this is awkward to ask but I need to know, for my safety as well as yours and Dean’s - are you due a heat any time soon?”

You shook your head. “Not for weeks.” Hugging yourself, you avoided his eyes, looking anywhere but at him. “If it makes things easier, I can leave.” Sam’s eyes went wide in alarm. “Just for a little while. Not be here while he’s in rut or when I’m in heat.”

“I don’t know if you being out there on your own is a good idea,” Sam murmured. “Especially not in heat.”

“I can’t stay here if it’s going to make him ill, Sam,” you argued. “The fever could cause worse problems than a raging boner.” He smirked at that but it wasn’t a humorous expression. The sadness in it made you think there was more to Dean’s rut than Sam was telling you and it made you curious to know more. “Sam, what aren’t you telling me?”

The younger Winchester sighed. “Dean’s never had an Omega. Like, ever.” You blinked at that, surprised because you knew he’d managed long term relationships at least once or twice. Sam looked edgy, shuffling his feet against the floor. “And he’s… he’s not getting any younger.”

“The ruts aren’t controlled?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t they have medication for that?”

Sam snorted. “You’ve met Dean, right? Stubborn as a mule and twice as pigheaded?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Dean won’t take meds. He doesn’t like the side effects.” You couldn’t argue with that. For a while, you’d taken suppressants but now you stuck to scent-blockers on your heat. The effects of suppressants were hell to go through; nausea, vomiting, headaches - you name it.

“And he knows that without an Omega..”

You trailed off as Sam started to speak. “His ruts will cause permanent damage,” Sam finished. “Yeah, he knows. In all honesty… neither of us expected to see the other side of thirty.”

You blinked and stared at him, seeing the truth of the situation in his serious eyes. “So he’s just going to let himself go feral?” Sam’s cheeks darkened. “You… you don’t see that being a problem.” He still didn’t say anything and the realization that neither hunter expected to grow old anyway settled in your chest like a lead weight. “This is it, isn’t it? What… what you and him were warning me about.”

“Yeah,” Sam murmured. “Hunting doesn’t come with a long life span. We’ve been incredibly lucky. And Dean… Dean won’t drag anyone into it if he can help it. That’s why he’s pushing you away.” You stared at the tall hunter, your throat closing with emotion and you stepped back away from the door.

“I… I need…” You didn’t even know how to finish the sentence but Sam seemed to understand, nodding as he backed away too.

“I’ll let you get some rest,” he muttered, giving you a lopsided grin. “Don’t worry about us, Y/N.”

Your mouth set into a thin line as he walked away. How were you supposed to  _not_  worry about them? Sam had all but told you that they’re both expecting to die any day. They didn’t even expect to be here now, let alone ten years down the line when Dean’s ruts would inevitably cause him brain damage, reducing him to little more than an animal controlled by his instincts.

Sam didn’t think they’d live long enough to have to deal with it. And expected you not to worry.

You scowled at the door, shutting it with more force than you’d intended. Hugging your arms around yourself, you stood with your back to the room, staring at the door like it might give you an answer. Did you stay like Sam wanted? Or did you go, knowing that no matter if you did either, Dean was eventually going to die, either tomorrow or ten years from now.

And then there was your situation. You had nothing. No one. The only friend in the world you had now was Sam. You had no home, no family - what were  _you_  going to do when the heats became too much for your body? It was quicker for Omegas than for Alphas. Alphas died because they stopped functioning like normal human beings. Omegas died because their organs failed as the natural limit of your enzyme production came. If you were right, you had maybe five years left until it became necessary to find an Alpha.

You didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that there was a very compatible Alpha literally inches from you.

A perfectly compatible Alpha.

Lizzie’s smile flashed into your mind. She’d always romanticized the biological imperative of having an Alpha. You’d meet brothers, handsome and charming, who would sweep you off your feet. You’d have houses next door to each other so your kids could grow up and everything would be perfect.

It was a silly dream that could never possibly come true. You’d met four Alphas in your life and all of them were assholes.

But Dean wasn’t an asshole. Not really. You knew why he pushed you away. Sam hadn’t told you absolutely everything but you’d worked a lot of it out on your own. Sometimes you weren’t sure if you were trying to become a hunter to do the right thing or because…

_Look at me now, Dean. An Omega hunter, perfectly capable of taking care of herself._

Of course, you wanted to relish that “I told you so”. Dean thought you incapable. He wouldn’t want a weak mate.

Growling in frustration, you stomped to your bed, throwing yourself onto the mattress. You were tired, from the hunt, the drive and the drama. Sam was right, you needed to rest.

Tomorrow, you’d try and figure all of this out.


	6. Chapter 6

Voices in the hallway woke you from the restless sleep you’d been trapped in, your dreams making your body slick with sweat. The sheets were tangled around your legs and you remained still as you opened your eyes, listening to the two men talking outside.

Sam and Castiel were discussing Dean, obviously unaware of loud they were being.

“The fever isn’t breaking,” Castiel was saying, his tone dismal. “He’s getting worse and you know why.”

“I’m not gonna ask Y/N to throw herself at my brother so he gets better. He’s made it through ruts like this before.”

“This isn’t a rut like he’s had before, Sam,” Cas replied, grunting at the younger Winchester. “This rut is in close proximity to a compatible Omega. I don’t think you understand how the genetic type works.”

Sam sighed loudly. “Well, I wouldn’t, would I? I’m a Beta, a regular guy, Cas. I don’t know what a rut feels like and Dean doesn’t exactly discuss it with me. Usually he’s up and around in about a day like it never happened.” You shifted, leaning toward the door. “I don’t know what to tell her. I’m not gonna guilt her into doing whatever it is he needs. That’s not fair and it’s not consensual. Not really.”

“You should see how she is feeling,” Castiel instructed and the conversation moved out of range, the sound of Dean’s bedroom door opening and shutting a few seconds later. You remained still, watching as Sam’s shadow fell over the bottom of your door.

He knocked and you called out for him to enter. The smile on his face belied what you’d heard from outside, and you managed a weak smile back. “Did you get some sleep?” Sam asked, lingering in the doorway.

“A little,” you muttered, sitting up, grimacing at the cold damp sheets. “Guess I got a little overheated.”

Sam frowned, leaning into the room a little, arms folded across his broad chest. “You’re not -”

“No,” you quickly interrupted, knowing he was about to ask if you were going into heat. “I’m not. I know that would be easier but it doesn’t always work that way. I’ve been pretty regular with them since I presented.” Sam shut his mouth with a nod, smiling tightly. “How’s Dean?” you asked and he looked away.

“Better,” he lied and you scowled.

“Better as in worse?”

The comment caught him off guard. “You heard us talking huh?” You nodded and Sam chuckled. “I forget sometimes when there are other people around. We don’t bother keeping our voices down.” He walked across the room, sitting at the foot of the bed as you pushed yourself up higher on the pillows, waiting for him to start talking. “Dean’s fever isn’t breaking. He’s not lucid and Cas is worried.”

“I would be too,” you replied. “Do you know what triggered it in the first place?”

Sam shrugged. “My best guess is because we were spending so much time together. Dean’s… he gets jealous easy. Despite logically knowing it was nothing, he has trouble separating his baser instincts at times.” You nodded, looking down at your hands. “But it’s not your fault. Dean… Dean’s been an ass to you.”

“Only because he’s scared,” you defended. “And I get it, I do. But I’m learning to take care of myself now. I can fight, I can shoot -”

“It’s not just that,” Sam mumbled. “Dean’s… Dean never thinks about the future. He doesn’t plan anything from one day to the next. We’ve never had the sort of life where you do that. But having an Omega means -” He didn’t finish, leaving the subject hanging in the air and you knew exactly what it was.

Pups.

Family, kids, responsibility. Needing to know where their next meal was coming from and keeping them safe from monsters.

Dean couldn’t see that in his future.

To be honest, you weren’t so sure you saw it in yours anymore, not with the things you knew now.

“Sam?” you whispered and his head lifted, eyebrows raising into his hairline. “Do you… do you think you and Dean finding me on that road was fate?” Sam blinked, unsure how to reply and you decided to clarify yourself. “What if everything, Lizzie’s death, the werewolf, what if all of it was to put me in Dean’s path?”

“I guess I never really think of it like that,” Sam said honestly. “We’ve been told so many times what our destiny is and we’ve avoided most of it. Unless it finds a way to loop round and still catch us.” He frowned. “Which happens a lot.”

You stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “That made no sense to me.”

He chuckled. “Doesn’t to me either.” Standing up, Sam gave you a fond look. “I don’t expect you to do anything, just so we’re clear. Not gonna pimp you out to my brother.” You smiled a little at that, nodding. “But Dean’s not the asshole he’s made himself out to be. Not really. He’s loyal, funny, charming, a pain in the ass but… he’s a good guy.” He paused, laughing to himself like he’d made a joke in his head. “He’s a hero.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back against the headboard.

Sam stopped by the door, looking back at you. “If you’re hungry, I can cook breakfast? I’m not as good in the kitchen as Dean but I can make a great omelette.”

Slinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you grinned at him. “Sounds great. Let me grab a shower and I’ll be right with you.”

*****

Finally washing all of the mud and grime off from the hunt left you feeling refreshed and more clear-headed. Dressing quickly, you wrapped the towel around your head to dry your hair and brushed your teeth, making sure to clean up the bathroom after you were done.

Dean might have been an ass to you but you weren’t going to disrespect the home they’d welcomed you into. And he seemed to hate mess.

Wandering back down the hallway to your room, you noticed Dean’s door open, the lamplight glowing softly inside. The scent of him was thick in the air, drawing you unconsciously toward him with no one to stop you. As you reached his door, you paused, spotting him on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of low hanging sweats as he tossed and turned.

A pained whimper tore from his lips and you darted to his side, concern making you lean over and press one palm against his forehead. Instantly, he fell silent, the warmth of his skin radiating through your fingers and slowly, his body stopped twitching.

Dean’s eyes opened as you drew your hand away, his exhausted gaze fixed on you. “Stay with me, please.”

You didn’t say anything, dragging the towel off of your head and tossing it toward his laundry basket, climbing into the bed with him fully clothed in your yoga pants and sweatshirt. Dean curled up against you, resting his head on your belly with his arms around your waist.

He drifted back off again easily, with no movement this time. His soft snores made you smile and you let your own eyes close. Sam appeared in the doorway a few moments later but you were already asleep, not even the slightest bit aware of the concerned younger Winchester’s gaze.

Dean slept until noon and you slumbered with him, at some point shedding your yoga pants and sweatshirt so you were only in your t-shirt and panties. The Alpha remained wrapped around you, unwilling to let you stray too far and eventually, Dean was the big spoon to your little one, nestled his face into the back of your neck, which is exactly where he found himself when he woke.

Staying still, he adjusted to the feeling of someone else in his bed. You were warm and soft and smelled like fresh apple pie and those caramel lattes with excessive amounts of sugar you could only get at Christmas.   And underneath it all, something innocent and sweet that Dean could never hope to deserve.

Why you?

Why now?

His rut had come early, probably due to his jealousy that you’d been spending so much time with Sam, even though he had no reason to feel that way. He’d seethed and raged while you were gone, eventually getting himself so worked up that he’d brought it on early.

You shifted in your sleep, turning in his arms and Dean was suddenly face to face with you, his arm still draped over your waist. The position felt unnatural, so he moved so his hand was splayed over your hip and a little smile tugged at the corner of your mouth.

It would be too easy to fall in love with you. You were fire and brimstone, never backing down from him, never intimidated by his mood even though he tried so hard to piss you off. Dean didn’t actually know what he’d do if you were out there in the world, alone… the thought made him growl quietly and you frowned in your sleep.

He wanted to wake you up. He wanted to kiss you and see what you tasted like. He wanted to hear the little moans and whimpers he knew he could coax from you.

But that would be condemning you to Dean’s life. To Dean’s inevitable death and yours.

Dean couldn’t have you but he couldn’t let you go.

In any other life, he would have chased down the stars for you. He would in this one, if it wouldn’t get you killed.

You sighed and snuggled closer, burying your head underneath his chin. Dean was unable to resist the instinct to hold you closer, to kiss the top of your head. He was hard as steel and aching but he could control himself. He wouldn’t inflict that on you; he wasn’t that kind of Alpha.

If this moment was all he had? He’d take it.

Tomorrow, you’d be gone.


	7. Chapter 7

You woke slowly, opening your eyes to an empty bed and confusion twisted your expression. Sitting up, you looked around; you were utterly alone. The bedroom door was open and you could hear Sam listening to something in his room.

Slipping from the bed and making your way out into the hall, you stopped at Sam’s door, your presence making him look up from his laptop. “Hey, Y/N. Is everything okay?” He didn’t mention the fact that you’d been in Dean’s bed, even though you’d never appeared for breakfast and he must have come looking for you.

“What’s the time?” you asked and Sam glanced at the clock on his computer.

“Nearly two in the afternoon,” he replied. “You were asleep for ages. Dean didn’t wanna disturb you.”

You nodded, chewing the inside of your mouth nervously. “Where is he?”

“He went out. About an hour ago,” Sam informed you cautiously. “He seemed better.”

“Nothing happened,” you whispered, feeling your cheeks heat up and Sam frowned, putting his laptop down and climbing off of the bed. “He just… he was having a nightmare and -”

“I never said anything did,” Sam interrupted, stopping in front of you. “He said you just slept. That he slept better and it must have taken the edge off.”

You frowned, looking up at the younger of the two brothers. “Where did he go?” The expression on his face was stubbornly neutral and your stomach felt like it was filling with concrete. “Sam, why would he leave?” Sam scratched at the back of his head, looking nervous now and you understood where Dean had gone. “He went out to…”

“Yeah,” was the mumbled confirmation.

Swallowing, you turned around, heading back to Dean’s room and picking up your clothes. Sam followed, attempting to say something, anything to make you feel better but nothing came out. You ignored him, pushing past when he blocked the doorway and returning to your room.

“Y/N,” he started as you pulled on a clean pair of pants and shrugged your sweatshirt back on, trying not to inhale Dean’s scent clinging to the fabric. It almost felt it was filling your lungs and it broke your heart to think of what he’d gone to do.

“Tell me where he’d go,” you requested quietly, your tone neutral.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Sam said calmly and you lifted your eyes to meet his. “Y/N -”

“I don’t have any claim on him,” you interrupted. “I know that. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing with anyone else. But,” you sighed, “he’s in rut. And whatever bar slut he picks up isn’t going to make it better, it’s going to make it worse.” Sam’s expression changed to alarm and you pushed past him. “I’m taking my car. I’m going to go and find him before he ends up in a ditch.”

Sam turned to follow you but made it no further than the door before your small hand was on his chest, holding him back. “He’s my brother.”

You smiled softly. “I know. But you can’t deal with this.”

“Why you?” he asked, genuinely perplexed and worried.

“I’m his Omega, right?” you replied, arching an eyebrow. “Look, Sam, I’m not gonna leave. I honestly don’t have anywhere else to go. And… I like it here. I like you. You’re probably the nearest thing I’ve had to a best friend that wasn’t -” A lump was in your throat and you looked down at your feet, pulling your hand back from Sam’s chest.

“Yeah,” Sam murmured, smiling. “Me too.”

Lifting your gaze to his again, you shrugged. “So, I’ll go find Dean and we’ll figure this out. Like grown ups.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know how successful that’s gonna be.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “if I have to beat some sense into him, I’ll try not to enjoy it.”

*****

The Clam Shack was a rough bar on the other side of Lebanon and you crinkled your nose when you walked through the saloon-style doors, trying not to touch them too much for fear of the germs inevitably clinging to the polished wood. It was busy inside, filled with patrons and loud music, making you wince.

You weren’t a huge fan of crowded places like this.

Finding Dean was easy; he was at the back, in a booth, with a trashed blonde sprawled across his lap. She seemed to be attached to his mouth, sloppily dragging her tongue over his face like a spaniel greeting its owner.

You cleared your throat as you came to a stop next to them. Dean’s eyes shifted to you and the blonde stopped slobbering over him, giving you a drunken filthy look. “Can we help you?” she slurred, her tits practically swallowing Dean’s face.

“Dean?” You left it at his name, wondering how he’d play this.

“You know her?” the blonde demanded, voice high and squeaky. Dean shrugged lazily - he’d clearly been drowning his sorrows before he’d started sucking face. “Oh, my, god, is she your girlfriend?”

He scoffed at that, giving you an irritated look. “No. She’s my roommate,” he explained away, taking hold of Blondie’s face. “Where were we?”

“Dean, you need to come home,” you informed him, keeping your tone neutral. Every fiber of your being wanted to rip this slut off of his lap but you restrained yourself. You didn’t have the right, not really.

“No I don’t,” Dean replied, his words muffled by Blondie’s lizard-person tongue. He had her lipstick smeared around his mouth and one of his hands was suspiciously out of sight under her skirt. Your stomach rolled; you wanted to throw up. “Get lost, Y/N.”

Swallowing your anger and tapping your foot, you crossed your arms over your chest. “This isn’t gonna fix it, Dean.”

Blondie giggled. “Oh, honey, you don’t know what to  _do_  with an Alpha.” You scowled when Dean chuckled, leaning over a little.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Tina here -”

“Tracy,” the blonde corrected with a displeased look on her face.

“Tracy,” Dean amended, “is perfectly capable of satisfying my needs.” You stared at him for a second before shifting your attention to Tracy, who was looking right back with a pout on her overly made up face. She was a Beta, probably in her mid-thirties, and she didn’t look like  _she_  could handle the Alpha you knew Dean was.

“Sure about that?” you prodded and his eyes narrowed.

“What, you wanna stay and watch?” he snarled, making Tracy jerk upright in surprise at his tone.

“Er, maybe I should -” she started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“You aren’t goin’ anywhere,” he ground out and it was clear by the look on her face that she wasn’t happy with being spoken to that way. Slapping at his hands, Tracy pulled herself off of his lap, standing back to regard him with anger. Dean sat up straight, placing his palms on the bench either side of him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I think,” Tracy said coolly, “that you should talk to your girlfriend -”

“She’s not -” Dean tried to interrupt but the blonde wasn’t done.

“- instead of sneaking out on her and lying. And you ain’t gettin’ anywhere with me, talkin’ like that, buddy.” She turned on her heels and stormed off, leaving you with an amused expression as Dean gaped in shock. Dropped your arms from across your chest, you shook your head as you laughed and walked away.

Dean wasn’t having any of it.

His fingers closed around your upper arm, yanking you back towards the booth and you shrieked, turning around and punching him just like Sam had taught you. Your fist connected with his nose and you felt the bone crunch underneath your knuckles.

It  _hurt_  like a sonuvabitch. Dean yelled in pain as he tripped backward, the bar falling silent except for the eighties rock playing in the background. You immediately cradled your hand against your chest, inspecting the swelling joints around your fingers and the slightly split skin. You’d put every ounce of strength you had into that punch and despite the pain, you were proud.

Somehow, the dive had a bouncer and you found yourself being hauled backwards by a strong set of arms. The contact only lasted a few seconds as Dean lunged from his seat, blood pouring from his busted nose. He threw himself at the bouncer, snarling and you shrieked, wondering how it had gone to hell so quickly.

“Dean!” you snapped, grabbing his arm before he could punch the bouncer. “Stop!”

He froze, panting heavily and the bouncer pushed him off, letting the bigger man roll toward you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him down.

“Stop,” you repeated, feeling him practically vibrate underneath you. “He’s my Alpha,” you rushed out as the bouncer went to drag him off of the floor. “He’s in rut. I’m sorry, I’ll take him home.”

The rotund man scowled, straightening, no longer on the offense. “Get him outta here.”

*****

It was chilly outside, the wind getting right into your bones. Dean didn’t seem affected, stumbling toward the Impala before you could stop him. “Dean, you are way too drunk to drive.”

“I’ve driven in worse state than this,” he argued, waving you off with a dismissive hand. You scowled and snatched his keys, shoving them into his pocket. “Hey, give those back!”

“Aside from the fact that I might have broken your nose -” He reached two fingers up to gingerly prod his face, grimacing when they came away sticky with clotted blood. “You are drunk as hell and you’re in the middle of a rut.”

“I was  _fixing_  that until you came along!” Dean snarled, raising a finger and jabbing it in your face. “Couldn’t just leave me to get my knot in somewhere couldja?” You scoffed in disgust and turned away toward your car. “Don’t walk away from me!” he yelled.

Ignoring him, you carried on, unlocking the driver’s door of your car. “Sticking your knot in any Beta slut that comes along is not the answer, Dean.” He didn’t follow, staring at your retreating back across the parking lot. “And you can either walk home or sleep in the dirt.”

Before you could climb into your car, a heavy weight slammed into you from behind and you squealed in fright, feeling strong hands turn you to face an angry looking Dean.

“You don’t get to come into my life and tell me what to fuckin’ do,  _sweetheart_ ,” he sneered, rage in his eyes and you swallowed, wondering if you were wrong to antagonize him. He was a large and dangerous man, probably carrying a gun, probably able to kill you easily. Your earlier shot had been lucky.

But that didn’t mean your smart mouth was going to shut up. “Someone should,” you snapped back. “Because you’re doing a great job of killing yourself.”

Dean snorted. “Better to kill myself than being responsible for your death.”

“And why would you be?” you accused, slamming your hands into his shoulders, feeling your bruised knuckles crunch together painfully. “You’re not responsible for me. No one said you had to be.” He pushed away from you, clutching his hair and screaming in frustration, the sound bellowing out into the cold air around him. You stared, unsure what do with this wild creature in front of you. “Dean, you’re not my Alpha.”

Piercing green eyes fixed on you, enhanced by the dim parking lot lighting. Was he…

Was he crying?

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, glancing at the floor before he was suddenly in front of you again, hands cupping your face. “I am.”


	8. Chapter 8

The kiss was more intense than anything you’d ever shared with anyone. It lasted only seconds, more teeth than tongue in Dean’s desperation and you were gasping for breath when he broke away.

Instead of making a smart comment, Dean stumbled back, throwing his arms out to steady himself as the world started to spin around him. Whether it was the whiskey you could smell on his breath or the head rush from the sudden electricity between you, you weren’t sure but he seemed to regain his composure quickly.

“Dean?” you asked, watching him blink rapidly. He looked like he was going to puke. “Are you okay?”

You reached out, placing your hands on his shoulders and his eyes connected with yours, the heat in them almost overwhelming. “We need to get home,” he ground out, covering your hands with his to drag them from his shoulders. “Or I’m gonna knot you in this fucking parking lot.”

A lump filled your throat and you couldn’t find words to reply to that. You pulled away, moving back to the car on suddenly shaky legs, managing to get in. Dean dropped himself into the passenger seat, the little car shuddering under his weight.

Neither of you spoke; Dean was a vibrating ball of energy and you could barely concentrate on the road for the thickness of his scent. Wetness pooled in your panties and you squeezed your thighs together. Dean growled low in his throat, obviously aware of his effect on you. He didn’t move, staring straight ahead and it was enough to push your foot down harder on the gas pedal.

“Your nose -” you started, as you pulled your car into the bunker garage. Dean shrugged, digging his fingers into his knees until his knuckles turned white. “Dean -”

“It’s fine,” he grunted.

“I didn’t mean -”

He looked your way, his jaw clenching. “Sam taught you well.” You turned the engine off, staring at the steering wheel as Sam emerged from the main bunker, jogging down the steps with concern on his face. Dean’s head jerked up and you knew you had to warn Sam that his brother might be volatile.

You climbed out of the car before Dean could stop you, calling out to the younger Winchester. “Sam -”

“What the hell happened?” Sam demanded, seeing the state of his brother’s face.

“It was an accident,” you explained. “Sam, you need to give him some space, he’s -” Dean opened the passenger door, getting out of the vehicle in an almost comical fashion with his long bow legs unfolding before him. “He’s still in rut,” you murmured, watching warily. “And he’s pissed off.”

“Did you do that?” Sam asked, pointing at your knuckles.

“He surprised me,” you defended. “Is Cas here?”

“I told you, it’s fine,” Dean snarled, pushing past Sam and storming up the steps. His brother raised an eyebrow in your direction and you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shut your car door. Gesturing to the door, Sam gave you a concerned look.

“Should I -”

You shook your head and climbed the steps. “No.” Sam stepped back, a little shocked at the force in your tone and you stopped when you were out of sight, pressing your hand to your chest. Dean’s scent was still everywhere, almost fogging your mind - you were surprised you hadn’t crashed the car on the way home.

His bedroom door was open. You stopped in the doorway, your eyes drifting over the rippling muscles of his bare back. Dean was leaning over his dresser, using a small mirror and pack of baby wipes to clean up his nose. His bloodied shirt lay on the floor and he’d already removed his boots.

Shutting the door, you stood just in front of it, keeping your attention on him.

“We need to talk about this.”

Dean stopped what he was doing, straightening and turning to you slowly. “Talk?” You nodded, a sudden pulse of fear running through your veins. He stepped toward you, eyes narrowed, predatory, making your core throb with arousal. “You don’t wanna talk, sweetheart.”

“We have to.”

Rolling his shoulders, Dean grinned. “You don’t wanna talk. You know where this is leading.” He was almost within touching distance and you wondered how it would feel to have his fingers on your naked skin. What would he taste like if you pressed your lips to that little dip below his ribs? Was he sensitive there?

“We don’t have -”

His hands slammed either side of you on the door. “You know what I want. And I can smell what you want.”

You whimpered, every argument, every thought that wasn’t Dean flying out of your mind. The very fresh memory that desperate kiss outside The Clam Shack was still rattling the butterflies in your stomach. “What do I want?” you asked him, bracing your hands on his bare shoulders, groaning at the feel of his warm skin under your palms.

The wolfish smile on his face never faltered as he leaned in. “You want your Alpha,” he whispered, ghosting his lips across yours. You moved in to kiss him when Dean dodged the contact, pressing his significantly larger body against yours. His mouth hovered by your ear and you could feel the outline of his erection in his pants. “You want me buried deep inside you, knotting your sweet little cunt until you can’t breathe.”

All you could do was gasp as your insides clenched in response. Dean’s dark chuckle made you shudder against the door, your body jerked in surprise when Dean’s hand slid between your bodies, groping your breast through your shirt.

“What do you want?” you dared and Dean’s mouth pressed against the spot where your jaw met your ear, a low moan echoing against the door.

“You tell me,” he growled, both hands on your body now, tugging at your clothes so he could slide his fingers up underneath your bra.

You gasped and arched when his fingers pulled at your erect nipples, twisting them. “You want me.”

“You can do better than that,” Dean snapped and you whined, trying to pull his hands away. He was too strong and you weren’t really putting any effort in. “Tell me what I want, Y/N.”

“You want - you want,” you slammed your head backward into the door, frustration making you groan, “you wanna fuck me.” Dean hummed in approval, dragging your shirt over your head. Your hair fell in a mess across your shoulders and Dean wrapped a hand through the tangles, forcing your body to curve in his hold.

“Keep going,” he ordered, using his other hand to tear your bra, destroying the flimsy fabric. You shrieked at the sharp sting of pain from the straps giving way but pleasure quickly overwhelmed it as Dean lowered his head to your naked breasts.

A tug on your hair reminded you of his command and you tried to put words together in a sentence. “Wanna knot me?” you murmured.

“Hmmm,” Dean moaned, switching to your other breast. “I do. What else do I wanna do?”

You swallowed as his teeth grazed your nipple, his free hand pushing underneath the waistband of your pants. His long index finger slid through your folds and you groaned in need. “You wanna mark me.” A growl answered you and you closed your eyes, pussy clenching as Dean simultaneously tortured your nipples with his mouth and teased your clit with his fingertip.

“Already wet for me, ‘mega?”

“Yes,” you hissed, pressing up on your tiptoes against the door.

Dean smirked, abandoning your breasts to watch your expression crumble as his fingers danced across your clit. “Do you want me to mark you?” His finger pushed into you, just one digit filling you and your body responded by greedily sucking him in. Managing a nod was all you could do - when you opened your mouth you only gasped and mewled.

When he withdrew, you almost crumpled against the door; the only thing stopping you was his strong arms. Dean caught you in a kiss, greedily pushing his tongue into your mouth. For a second, you didn’t respond, until the same hunger in him took hold of you and it became a battle of wills.

You weren’t a weak-willed Omega. You’d nearly broken his nose tonight. The bruising and broken skin were testament to that. Submitting wasn’t one of the options here.

Breaking the kiss, you slammed the heels of your palms into his shoulder, forcing him backward with a snarl of displeasure tearing from your mouth. Dean looked surprised, as well as aroused, stumbling back and hitting his calves on the bed.

“I’m not going to submit to you,” you growled.

“Maybe not,” Dean grinned, shrugged lazily. “You’re not denying it.”

“Denying what?”

He ran his thumb across his chin, wiping at the sweat gathered there from his body’s reaction to his rut and you. “That you’re mine.”

You darted forward, taking him by surprise, utilizing the amount of times Sam had put you on your ass to put his brother on the bed, your thighs straddling his waist. “Are you going to deny you’re  _mine_?”

Dean smirked. “No,” he rasped and you slid your hand around his throat, forefinger and thumb lightly pressing either side of his windpipe. Leaning in, you softly pressed your lips to his, groaning as your sensitive nipples brushed against his bare chest.

His cock was throbbing in the confines of his jeans and you slid down his body until you were kneeling between his thighs. Dean spread his legs a little, lifting up on his elbows to look down on you as you closed your mouth over the straining denim. He groaned, biting his full bottom lip between his teeth.

You smiled, enjoying the power you had over him, continuing to tease him as your fingers danced over the buckle of his belt. He was holding his breath, watching you with lidded eyes, his cock twitching repeatedly under your mouth.

Keeping your pace slow, you unfastened his pants, tugging them down along with his boxers, humming appreciatively as Dean lifted his hips from the bed to accommodate your movement. His cock sprang free, leaking precum from the tip, his sac heavy underneath the base of the shaft.

Your sexual experience wasn’t limited, but you’d never actually seen an Alpha cock up close. The only Alpha you’d ever slept with was when you had just presented, a high school boyfriend who’d never wanted anything more than to pop his knot. Most of your experience came from one night stands with Betas.

Covering your nerves, you wrapped your fingers around Dean’s thick length, stroking him slowly enough to elicit a strangled sound from him. The noise bolstered your courage and you lifted yourself up on your knees, balancing you weight on your arms as you took the very tip of his cock between your lips.

Dean’s entire body shuddered and he fell back in bliss. You moaned as you rolled your tongue around the crown of his cock, tasting his precum. It was rich and thick, the literal embodiment of his natural scent and you stroked him again, coaxing more of the sweet liquid into your mouth.

A long drawn out “ _fuck_ ” fell from his lips and his fingers curled in the sheets either side of his hips. You kept going, taking more and more of his cock into your mouth, cheeks bulging as you attempted to deepthroat him, pulling back at the last second.

Your pussy throbbed, fingers holding onto his hips tightly when you wiggled your ass, pressing your thighs together. You so badly wanted to cum but you want to show him that you could please him, that you  _knew_  how to. The reason for your need was unclear; later you’d understand that he felt the same need.

The need to prove that you were worthy of each other.

Dragging your tongue down his length, you kept going south, teasing his sac with a brush of your lips. When he responded positively, you opened your mouth, caressing the sensitive bundle slowly. Dean groaned, arching his hips up a little.

You continued to tease him, knowing he’d snap and the moment came sooner than you thought. The second you released his cock, Dean sat up, dragging you up onto the bed, tearing at your pants until you were bare for him, save for your panties.

Those came away in much the same fashion as your bra and you squeaked when Dean leaned over your body, his knees on one side, dipping the mattress by your hips. One hand pulled your thighs apart and he lowered his mouth to your aching pussy, stroking your sex with his tongue from clit to ass. You shivered and gasped, reaching out with one hand to grab for his cock again.

“Ah, ah,” he snapped, jerking his head upward to glare at you. “You’ve had your fun.” Sliding his hand around your wrist, Dean removed your fingers from his manhood, forcing both your hands above your head. One of his huge paws held both your wrists pinned and he smirked, returning his free hand to between your thighs. “Gonna make sure you’re ready for me, princess.”

You gasped when his fingers touched you again, two digits spreading your pussy open. He dipped his middle finger into your already-soaked hole, smiling when you moaned and clenched around nothing. “Dean…”

“Sssh,” he hissed, slowly easing his finger inside you, curling it upward, learning the spots that made your bottom lip quiver. “I want you to cum for me.” Dean kept his gaze locked on you as he fucked his single finger into your cunt, gradually increasing the pace before he added a second.

It felt like you were already going to break with just two fingers inside you. You could already taste the pleasure of how his cock was going to feel splitting you open. The thought made your entire body tense and Dean groaned, thrusting his hand against you harder. The added stimulation made you cry out, writhing in his hold.

“Cum for me, Omega,” Dean ordered in a low growl and you sobbed as he pressed the pad of his thumb into your clit, triggering your climax.

You cried out until you were breathless, strung-out and panting underneath the smug Alpha, who released you and sucked his sticky fingers into his mouth. The decadent moan that followed had you shuddering and Dean smiled, focusing hazy green eyes on you.

“Now you’re ready for me.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

_“Now you’re ready for me.”_

Dean pushed you onto your side, slotting himself behind you, kissing a path along your shoulders. He lifted one of your legs and draped it over his thigh, letting his cock rest against your pussy, teasing you with the heat and weight of it.

“Dean,” you whimpered, pushing back against him, hungry for his knot.

He chuckled at your impatience, fisting his cock and guiding it to your entrance. “I got you, baby girl,” he murmured, easing the first inch or so into your soaked channel. You whined and arched into him, forcing him deeper and Dean growled against your shoulder. His control was wearing thin, evidenced by the way his fingers dug into your thigh, holding it in place as he filled you to the brim with Alpha cock.

The sound you made was animal-like, a wail that probably would have caused alarm. Dean held still, buried to the hilt, his knot throbbing against the rim of your cunt. He leaned his head into your shoulder, gasping as your body flexed around him, growing accustomed to the stretch of him inside you.

A whined “ _Alpha_ ” made Dean tighten his grip, bruising your thighs as he started to move with long purposeful strokes, the slap of skin of skin echoing around the room. He was panting against your throat, his teeth grazing the skin every so often as he dragged cry after cry from your parted lips.

Your climax overtook you before you even realized it was building. Dean slammed into you hard, no restraint left in him. As you shook and sobbed through your orgasm, he rolled you, pinning you to the mattress with his thighs either side of yours. The changed position drove him deeper, the fullness of his half-knot only serving to tease you of what was coming.

You wanted to mark him. It wasn’t the done thing, not these days; it wasn’t a necessity. But something dark and primal was curling in your belly, making you possessive. Maybe it was the bar slut all over him earlier or the faint scent that clung to his skin, the scent that didn’t belong to you.

Dean wanted you to be his. And you wanted him to be yours.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, voice dangerously low in your ear. “I’m gonna knot you, ‘mega.” You groaned, lifting your ass as much as you could, arching your back so your belly was pressed into the bed. It was an unconscious presentation, a need to have him as deep as you could. Dean groaned, increasing the force behind his thrusts until you could feel the thick swell of his knot popping.

You came with him, clenching around his knot, milking him for every last drop he had. When his weight smothered you and the sting of his teeth against your throat made you scream, the sound barely came out with the sheer power of the connection between you.

Blood trickled down your neck onto the sheets underneath you and your orgasm faded away into light-headedness. Dean withdrew, licking the wound clean of blood, trying to keep his weight from crushing you as you tried to catch your breath. He shifted slowly onto his side, practically cradling you in his arms so he didn’t hurt you.

Opening your eyes seemed like entirely too much effort, so you kept them shut, listening to Dean’s breathing evening out behind you. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, his knot still throbbing inside you, providing a pleasant buzz that spread through your entire being.

“We’re sideways,” he muttered, heaving a sigh against your neck, the words a little slurred.

You forced your eyes open, groaning as you met the headboard. Your feet were dangling off of the edge of the bed, slowly getting chilly. “Can’t move,” you complained, closing your eyes again. Dean didn’t respond, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

It took awhile for him to be able to withdraw from you, leaving you slumped on the bed as he fetched something to clean up with. You groaned, dragging yourself up onto the bed, taking the side you knew he didn’t sleep on. Dean returned, offering you a towel which you simply pressed between your legs, clamping it in place with your thighs. He chuckled and slid in behind you, pulling the covers over you both.

“We still have to talk,” you croaked out, already feeling the pull of unconsciousness.

“Yeah,” he grumbled, settling in as you let sleep pull you under. “I know.”

*****

You woke before Dean did, your bladder letting you know that you needed to relieve yourself. Picking your way through the darkness of Dean’s room, you found his shirt and slipped it on, tossing the towel into the laundry basket.

The bunker was silent as you slipped out into the halls and you assumed it was late. You had no idea how long you’d been asleep but it had been the best sleep you’d probably ever had.

Cold seeped from the tiled floor into your bare toes and you walked as quickly as you could to the bathroom, just about making it. You hated when your body waited too long to wake you and you had to rush. It made the journey a whole lot more dangerous. Especially when you weren’t used to the bunker yet.

Dean hadn’t moved when you returned and you crawled back under the covers, smiling when he automatically wrapped himself around you in his sleep. It felt safe and warm and you wiggled when his groin pressed into your ass, his cock taking interest in your movements.

An idea crept into your head.

You turned in his arms so you were facing him, pressing your lips to his softly. Dean pouted in his sleep, reacting to the kisses you peppered across his jaw. A moan left his lips and his hands slipped down to your ass, pulling you closer as he slowly woke.

Your scent flared as you dragged one leg up and Dean rolled, groaning as you settled over his lap, his back flat on the bed. His cock was pressed against your bare slit, twitching and seeking entrance to your warmth. Lifting your hips a little, you whined as he slid into you, the combination of your own arousal and his cum from the night before leaving you ready for him.

He hissed a “ _fuck_ ” as you took him in completely, feeling the stretch of his thick girth inside your body and you sat straight, rolling your lower half to feel that sweet little spot of intensity where his cockhead pressed into your cervix.

“So deep,” you murmured, closing your eyes and lifting your chin, relishing the full feeling.

Dean’s hands grasped your hips, holding you in place. “I was sleeping,” he accused and you smirked, dropping your gaze to him as you opened your eyes again.

“Are you really gonna complain about being woken up to sex?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “If you’d showered, it would have been a blow job.” He grunted, the sound dissolving into a throaty growl as you clenched your body around his steel length. “You gonna stay still like a good boy or do I have to pin you down?”

Dean laughed under his breath. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Afraid of giving up the control, big bad Alpha?” you growled back, taking hold of his hands, slowly guiding them to the space either side of his head. You pinned them with your full weight and Dean grimaced, his expression overcome when pleasure when you gyrated your hips enough to let his cock slip free an inch or so before you slid back down. “Worried you might like being the submissive one?”

His face twisted in conflict but you didn’t stop moving, repeating the movement over and over until the Alpha underneath you was practically whimpering with need.

“I think you do,” you whispered and a choked cry left his throat, his body shaking as you rode him. “You wanna cum for me, Alpha?” Dean managed a nod, arching when you dragged out each stroke, feeling his knot starting to swell. “Wanna knot me? Fill me up?”

God, it felt good to turn the tables. He’d made you his last night; now, you were going to make him yours.

Dean was almost snarling now, trying to meet you thrust for thrust and you moved so your feet were pinning his thighs down. He could easily break free - you were fully aware of that fact. But he didn’t, which made the submission all the more empowering.

Your own need to cum overwhelmed the need to feel him and when Dean rolled his head to the side, exposing the column of his throat and the throb of his pulse underneath the skin, all higher brain function left the building. Lowering your mouth to his throat, just above the collarbone, you scraped your teeth over his skin.

He almost bucked you off but you were too far gone, slamming your hips down to take his thickening knot into your soaked pussy. The skin under your teeth broke and iron flooded your mouth, accompanying Dean’s howl as he slammed up into your willing body. He came hard and hot, pumping until his legs refused to work anymore.

You licked his neck as he shivered underneath you, his chest heaving as he recovered. His arms wrapped around your waist and you lifted a little, seeking a kiss from his lips. Dean moaned into your mouth, holding you close.

“I thought,” he swallowed, throat hoarse from strain, “we were gonna talk?”

Giggling, you tapped the end of his nose with your finger. “We will.” You grinned, clenching around him and Dean whined. “When I’m done.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

It was evening before you actually talked. Dean was stretched out languidly on the bed, you curled up at his side with your head tucked under his chin. His hand combed through your hair, finding tangles with every stroke - both of you were disheveled and in desperate need of a shower.

Your stomach rumbled loudly and Dean chuckled.

“Hungry?”

Smiling, you shifted back so you could look at him. “It’s not on my list of priorities,” you murmured, “mainly because everything includes getting dressed and I don’t wanna.” The statement ended on a pout and Dean grinned, capturing your chin between his fingers and guiding your lips to his.

“You’re cute when you pout.”

“Shut up,” you muttered back, kissing him softly.

Your list of priorities shifted when your stomach rumbled again and your bladder joined the party. Dean groaned in complaint when you moved away, the sound turning pervy when he caught an eyeful of your bare ass. He reached out in an attempt to swat it, miscalculating, and failing, and you giggled, swaying your hips as you grabbed his shirt from the floor again.

“Five minutes in and she’s stealin’ my shirts,” Dean muttered, shaking his head as he clicked his tongue. You slipped the shirt on and he sat up, tilting his head in appreciation, whistling under his breath. “Damn, if that’s not the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I told you,” you hissed, stalking back to the bed and shoving his shoulder, “to shut up.”

Dean was faster, wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you down, making you shriek. He laughed loudly as you struggled, slapping at his hands to try and escape.

“I’m gonna pee!” you warned and he released you, still laughing as you scowled and straightened yourself. “You’re an ass.” He shrugged, catching your ass this time and you shrieked again, covering the spot before darting out of the door.

It was his stomach’s turn to growl and Dean grunted in irritation, sliding from the warm bed and locating his pants, sliding them up over his hips. His rut still simmered under his skin, the newness of his connection with you prolonging it; he ignored his shirt in favor of bare skin.

Once you’d retrieved some leggings and socks, you joined Dean in the kitchen, attempting to sneak up behind him. His instincts were sharper than yours and he turned, catching you before you could jump him. Your giggles greeted Sam as the younger brother entered, running a hand through his long hair and grimacing at the public display of affection.

“Guess you two worked things out,” he muttered, shuffling past you and his brother to the coffee pot. “Does this mean I don’t have to be in the middle of you two ripping chunks out of each other?”

Dean shrugged, holding you in his arms as he glanced at his brother. “If you can deal with smooching instead…”

Sam made a disgusted noise, pouring his coffee out and turning his back. “Just limit the kissy-face.” His brother pursed his lips and blew kisses at the younger man, making you laugh and making Sam roll his eyes. Dean shifted, returning to the coffee he’d left on the side as you watched Sam leave, clearly returning to his bedroom to escape.

“Bacon?” Dean suggested, sliding a cup of coffee your way.

“Sounds great,” you murmured, smiling at him and touching his arm. His eyes almost sparkled in the fluorescent lighting and you gave him an odd look. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he murmured, pulling you close again, kissing the corner of your mouth, his nose pressing into your cheek. “Just -” A sigh left him, fluttering across your skin. “This happy bubble’s gonna burst and I don’t want it to.” You pulled back to look at him, placing your hands on either side of his face.

“Then don’t let it,” you whispered. “Being a hunter doesn’t mean you have to be unhappy, Dean.” Dean’s eyes rolled a little and he went to pull away but you stopped him, forcing him to look at you. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t do that avoidance thing. This is it now. Me and you.”

His eyes searched yours, as if he might understand his own feelings more by seeing yours. You knew what he was going to say before he said it. “Hunters don’t get happy endings, Y/N.”

You shrugged. “Who says?”

“Everyone who ever died?” Dean’s expression was fluctuating now, his irritation at your refusal to accept the inevitable end grating on him. “Eternal optimism won’t save your life, sweetheart.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes and you poked him in the chest, hard enough to make him hiss. “Do you really think the universe would go to all the trouble of putting me in your path if you were meant to walk away? Did you think that marking me would get me to leave?” You scoffed. “I saw you with a bar skank draped over your lap and when you kissed me, I could still taste her trashy lipstick.  _And I’m still here, dumbass_.”

Dean blinked as if he’d never expected the vehement reply. You poked him again and he grabbed at your hand to stop you.

“And what got you here?” he demanded, pushing you back a little. He’d gone on the defensive, aiming to make you angry at him to deflect from admitting the truth.

You were just about stubborn enough not to let it happen.

“My sister died,” you said, grinding your teeth together. “And it hurts. A lot. More than I could think.” Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him coldly. “And you  _know_  better than anyone what that pain feels like.” The observation stunned him and you softened, touching his cheek gently. “Dean, don’t you think at some point the universe would give you something back for all you’ve given it? Don’t you -” You frowned, suddenly realizing the depth of his self-hatred. “Don’t you think you deserve this?”

Dean’s eyes were shining now, wet with emotion and you saw the truth for exactly what it was.

Dean didn’t think he was worthy of what you were giving him.

Too late to take it back now. And you were intent on making sure he knew he was entirely worthy of it.

“Every time,” he whispered, his hands cradling your jaw on either side, “every time fate comes knocking, it never ends well for me. Or anyone.”

“What if this time it does?” you questioned and Dean fell quiet. He didn’t have an answer to that and you smiled, pushing up onto tiptoes to brush your lips against his. “Why not just… let it happen?”

Coffee and rumbling stomachs forgotten, Dean lost himself in your kisses, lifting you up onto the counter and slotting himself between your legs. His tongue plundered your mouth savoring your taste as his fingers tugged at your shirt.

“Dean,” you murmured, managing to break away, “maybe not right this second?” He paused, his eyes wide as he heard your stomach growl again. “I’m actually really hungry.”

Dean smiled, brushing his thumb across your cheek, leaning in for one more kiss. “C’mon. Sooner we eat, sooner I can get you back into bed.”

*****

_Two weeks later_

“No!” Dean yelled, right as the shot hit its mark and he dropped to his knees, almost sobbing at the loss.

You stood on the other side of the pool table, cue in hand and extremely smug look on your face. “Guess what else Sam’s been teaching me?”

“You hustled me,” Dean murmured, staring up in shock at the three balls he still had on the table. You laid your cue on the cushioned tabletop and strutted back to the table where Sam was laughing his head off at his big brother’s distress. Slowly, the older man got to his feet, turning to look at you sipping on your glass of soda with a grin. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?” he accused.

“I’m not here to stroke your ego, sweetie,” you chided, reaching out as he got closer, tugging him toward you with your fingers in his overshirt. “But I’ll stroke somethin’ else if you wanna get outta here.”

Dean’s eyes lit up and Sam groaned in disgust. “Yeah, if you’re doing that, I’m going back to the motel.” He stood up and stretched, finishing his beer before giving you a finger salute. “Try not to break him.” You smiled innocently just as Dean blocked your view, hauling you out of your seat as Sam disappeared out of the bar.

“That offer standing?” he purred, drawing you into a heated kiss, oblivious to the other occupants of the bar. You smiled, booping his nose purely because you knew it annoyed the crap out of him. “Because I’ve got a few trick shots I’d like to show you.”

 


End file.
